Now Or Never
by SpicySugar
Summary: "No, mudblood. No, it won't be okay." Hermione's head shot up, staring at the black silhouette before her, outside her cell. "Surprised to see me?" he asked. "What do you want, Malfoy," she spat. He drew his wand and shot a beam of red light at her...


The clanking of iron against cold stone was a sound very familiar to her. The cool melody of the unrefined steel dragging against the floor, against the walls… it was almost soothing, now. She had been here so long that she now even knew the difference between the melodies.

The fast and harsh… that was a new prisoner, struggling fruitlessly against their magically enforced bonds. This was usually mixed with screams, yells, pleas for mercy, followed by pleas for death.

The soft and slow… that was the sighing and desolation of a prison long kept here, resigned to their fate. Their slow and steady breathing was barely audible. This was her melody.

The quiet and steady… this was the sound of a prisoner being led… or dragged… to execution. You always could tell those apart from the rest. Only silence… deadly, frightful silence… mingled with that haunting song.

Each of them were kept in a cell alone. Unusual you might think, but it kept them from getting friendly and plotting escape. Their cells were small to compensate for this luxury of privacy. However, since they wanted their prisoners to keep their sanity until their very dying moment… silencing charms were left out. They were able to converse with those around them, through the echoing dungeon.

None of them even pretended to hope that their conversations weren't being listened to.

With each new prisoner brought to cells near her she asked their name, hoping, praying, that none of them were him. Though she may be locked in this hell hole, she prayed to a God she didn't even know she believed in that he was still out there, fighting for freedom, fighting for the light. For all she knew he was locked up in some other cavern, some other cell, some other dungeon. But she took comfort knowing that at least if he wasn't here, it meant he might still be out there.

The clanking of chains brought her out of her thoughts.

Silence, as usual for the incoming prisoners… always under a silencing charm. Though there was no voice, she could hear the sniffles, could almost hear the sound of her tears hitting the stone. She knew it was a woman instinctively. No man had ever cried like that when brought in.

She heard the cell door next to hers open. It had been emptied only the previous night… Miranda had been her name. They hadn't kept Miranda here long. They knew she was weak, that she held little information. She readily gave up what she knew, believing their false promises for salvation… and a few days later she had been lead away… but to salvation, she was sure not.

Silence, always in silence…

The silence was broken as the iron bars slammed shut and the girl next to her regained her voice and let out a long, slow moan, mingled with tears.

She tried to calm her.

"Be still, dear…" she called. "There is nothing you can do now."

Another sob. A wail.

"You will learn to be calm," she soothed. "You will learn to accept."

"No… no… I… I can't…" choked out the girl. She sounded so young, no more than fifteen.

Oh, what they would do to her… Hermione shuddered at the thought.

"What's your name?" she asked, her usual inquiry.

"A… Aurora." She answered, hiccupping.

"Hello Aurora. I'm Hermione."

Another hiccup.

"Hermione _G-Granger_?" came the incredulous reply. She was used to it by now. Everyone knew her name, along with his. Ron's name, too, was known… though he had died in the fighting…

She fought back tears of her own and struggled to maintain her composure.

"Yes, dear, Hermione Granger."

Aurora moaned in despair.

"We all knew you'd disappeared but we'd hoped they hadn't gotten you, too…"

"Hoped in vain, I'm afraid," Hermione replied. Her stomach squirmed when the girl had said "too." She couldn't possibly mean that… no, surely he must still be there, still be alive, still be fighting…

She couldn't bring herself to ask.

"How long have you been here?" came Aurora's voice. Hermione sighed.

"I have lost track of the days," she replied, defeated. "There is no source of light, they wake us when they please, and with my hands chained I have no way of even marking the stones around me." She paused. "How long have I been stated as missing?"

"Six weeks," came the quiet reply.

_Six weeks_. Hermione couldn't even hold in a gasp, a cry. Had it really been that long? Had it really been six weeks, six long weeks, of torture, of rape, of questioning, of starvation, of abuse?

Six weeks… forty two days…

She'd never known anyone to be kept here beyond forty days. Those that had been here when she arrived were long gone, and those that had been brought here after her were taken away after no more than seven to ten sleeps…

Her time was sure to be soon.

"I take it things are not well, Aurora?" Hermione asked, straining to keep calm.

"Not well at all," she admitted, sniffling. "We grow weaker every day. We fear he will take over everything soon. The Ministry is already in his command… they are simply rounding up rebels now…"

Hermione knew Aurora was speaking of Voldemort.

"Rebels like you?" she asked.

"Yes… rebels like me…"Aurora whimpered.

"How did they catch you?"

Hermione knew conversation was the only way to keep sane.

"I'd run away from my parents," Aurora admitted. "I felt old enough, even though I wasn't seventeen… they had succumbed to him, started following him… they were such… such good people…"

Aurora's words turned to sobs. Hermione helped her calm down.

"I… I went to go live with my boyfriend. He was eighteen, he was on his own…"

"What was his name?" Hermione asked. She, herself, was only twenty-one. Perhaps she knew him.

"Alexander," Aurora replied, sniffling still.

Alexander. A powerful name. Hermione wondered if he was as strong as his name suggested.

"He… Alex… turned out to be on their side," Aurora said, her voice choking. "He took me in, slept with me, fed me… then while I was sleeping, told them where I was…"

At this, she broke out into uncontrollable sobs.

"I just… I just… just wanted… to do… do the right thing!" she cried. Hermione heard the chains rattle as Aurora's sobs shook her.

"Aurora… be calm, be still… it will be okay…"

Hermione knew this was a lie, but what could you say to a devastated teenage girl, frightened for her life, betrayed by those she loved?

"No, mudblood. No, it won't be okay."

Hermione's head shot up, staring at the black silhouette before her, outside her cell.

"Surprised to see me?" he asked.

"What do you want, Malfoy," she spat. He drew his wand and shot a beam of red light at her, hitting her square in the chest and knocking the wind out of her, causing constricting, blinding pain in her heart…

"Manners, mudblood," he chided. Hermione panted, gasping for air once the curse lifted. Draco Malfoy had not made an appearance to her in what she guessed must be at least a week… since the last time he'd raped her…

Hermione couldn't hear Aurora's sobs over the thudding of her own heartbeat.

"It's time," he said, unlocking her cell.

Hermione's breath came in shuddered gasps. "It's time." The words spoken before that quiet and steady melody… and the silence…

She habitually shied away from him as he stepped into her cell.

"Still afraid?" he sneered, peering down at her naked body. He knelt next to her and thrust two fingers deep inside of her. She couldn't help but to cry out in a sick combination of pain and pleasure… his fingers got faster until he brought her helplessly to orgasm, her moans and screams filling the echoing dungeon walls.

"You're so deliciously easy, mudblood. Let's have one last go, shall we?" he asked.

"No… no, no, please… no…" she cried softly, knowing her protests would do no good.

"Yes, yes, oh yes…" he countered, and with one swoop of his wand he released her chains from the wall, allowing her to walk yet still keeping her hands and feet bound so she could not escape. She had no idea why he did this to her, why he forced himself upon her yet caused her body endless pleasure… she suspected it was some sick sense of domination.

Regardless, she had no choice.

Slowly she walked, his wand at her back, her voice – for the moment – taken away. All she heard was that quiet and steady melody of the chains on the stone… her funeral dirge, the song that would bring her to her death at last…

She walked blindly, silently, where she was led, until she found herself in a room. She had to blink a few times to adjust herself to it… not only the light, but the décor.

The stone walls and stone floor remained, but that was all that was the same. There were lavish green and silver rugs under her feet, elaborate mahogany furniture surrounding the walls. Elegant candelabras hung from every corner, illuminating the room. Hermione hadn't seen so much opulence in almost longer than she could remember. Of particular interest to her, however, was the giant, king-sized four-poster bed… and the full length mirror beside it.

Malfoy noticed her gaze on these things.

"Dare you look at your reflection?" he asked, smirking. "I know you're curious. Look, see what six weeks in the dark has made you become." He prodded her in the back with his wand and she knew it was a command, not a request. A final method of torture for her.

She took a few slow steps toward the mirror, and what she saw made tears flow from her eyes.

Her hair, once wavy and full, was matted and dirty, full of split ends of damaged pieces.

Her eyes, once so lively, were dull, dark, and lifeless.

Her skin, once pale and pure, was covered in dirt and dust, bruises and scars.

In short, she looked nothing short of horrendous. The tears she cried carved tracks in the dirt matted on her cheeks, showing the light skin beneath. She couldn't help it… she collapsed on the floor, held her knees to her chest, and sobbed. This is how she would die. Alone, lifeless, dirty… kept a prisoner in a dungeon of the Dark Lord for nearly two months…

To her surprise, Malfoy did not yell or bark at her. She knew he was still there, she felt his presence… but he let her cry. Let her grieve.

Suddenly, he spoke.

"I know how painful it is… to be kept prisoner," he said quietly.

Hermione hiccupped and laughed.

"You, Malfoy?" she called, and found she had a voice again. "You? He who has been pampered and well taken care of his whole life?"

His stony silence and icy glare followed before his reply.

"You forget, Granger, of those years in between. Those years when I was bound by an unbreakable bond to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, when I was forced into his service, tortured by him, had the Dark Mark branded on my arm…" he paused, his hand unconsciously touching the spot beneath his robes where the offending mark lay.

Hermione considered this in silence.

"You forget, Hermione. You forget."

Her breath caught. He'd used her given name.

"Perhaps our imprisonments weren't the same exactly. But we were both imprisoned against our will, nonetheless," he continued. She felt him approach her, felt him bend over her, felt his hand on her shoulder.

She flinched.

"Don't be afraid."

"How can I not be?" she asked, staring at her own lifeless eyes in the mirror.

"Don't think about what will be, or what has been. Think about what is now."

She contemplated this.

"And what _is_ now?" she finally asked.

"A bath," he replied.

Quite possibly the very last answer she'd expected.

"A… a what?"

"You heard me. A bath."

"But… but why?"

"No one deserves to die this way," he replied. She tried not to think about his words as she looked up at his reflection in the mirror.

"Come, Hermione," he said, and placed his hands on her arms, helping her up since she was still bound hand and foot. She reluctantly met his eyes once she was on her feet, and she dimly registered the waving of his wand. She felt the shackles disappear and looked down in amazement… it was the first time she'd been without them in six weeks.

"This way."

He guided her to a wooden door on the opposite side of the room and opened it. Hermione almost couldn't believe her eyes… a beautifully majestic washroom was laid out before her, with sparkling crystal fixtures, marble floors and walls… but best of all was the steaming stone basin in the middle… a tremendously large bathtub full of steaming hot water… magically charmed, she was sure, to never get cold.

After her mind had fully comprehended this scene, she managed words.

"Is this a trick?" she asked.

"No," he promised. "_Revelio,"_ he said, waving his wand in a grand sweep across the room.

The only spells that were revealed were the faint red glow above the tub – the warming charm – and a black mist at the door… a silencing charm.

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"You don't know. You can't. Until you simply do it."

She paused. What did she have to lose, anyway?

"Go on," he encouraged. "Enjoy."

She took a tentative step forward. Then another. She knew he would follow her in… she had no shame anymore, how could she object? Soon she was beside the steaming basin.

It was here that she stopped, still unsure.

"I will help you, if needed," he said. There was a calm, a caring, in his voice that Hermione had never heard before.

"Yes… I mean… I think… I mean…"

Before she could finish her sentence, she was in his arms, cradled at her shoulders and knees. She gasped in surprise… surely he could have magicked her into the tub? But he had promised it wasn't a trick… she guessed he wanted to make sure he proved that to her…

Slowly, inch by inch, he laid her in the water. He got the sleeves of his robes soaked in the process but he appeared not to care. She felt every muscle in her body relax as the heat enveloped her and her eyes closed in ecstasy. She felt his arms leave the water and she sighed. When she opened her eyes again, he was standing before her in only slacks, his chest bare. He had removed his wet robes.

She had never seen him so exposed before… all the times of torture and rape, he had always kept all his clothes on… merely exposed what needed to be, did the deed, and left…

She took this exposure now as a plea for trust, for equality. She did not question.

She was surprised when she felt his hands in her hair, gently pulling downward.

"Can you wet your hair?" he asked. For some reason it seemed such a stupid question coming from him, so out of place. Did he intend to bathe her? Nonetheless, she let him lower her head into the water almost completely, only letting most of her face remain above the surface. She felt his hands working at her hair, breaking up the mats and tangles, working out the loose dirt. She felt his hand on her back, imploring her to sit up. She did so, and almost immediately felt the cool sensation of what felt like a mountain of shampoo on her scalp… she sighed as she felt his hands, his fingers, work it into her hair slowly, methodically… she was almost disappointed when he gently laid her back again, running his hands through her hair to rid it of the suds.

When his hands left her hair she watched them grab a loofah and then coat it in soap, after which he cast an _impervius_ charm on it.

"May I?" he asked.

Her head was spinning at the thought of Malfoy asking her permission for something. The roles were so reversed. He was treating her like a queen, he like her servant… he was treating her with such care, such reverence… she thought she surely must be dreaming.

"Forgive me, but… do you do this with every prisoner?"

"Tonight you are not a prisoner, Hermione." Her stomach jumped when he said her name. "Tonight you are a lady. My lady."

She gulped at this revelation. It was too much for her mind to take in, to endure. Her? A lady?

"You didn't answer my question."

"No, Hermione. I have done this with no one kept here but you. You, and you alone."

She had every reason to believe he was lying… every fiber in her body wanted to believe that he was deceiving her like he had probably deceived a million other women in this bathtub… but she couldn't force herself to do it. So she merely accepted her fate, whatever it may be, and let him work.

"You also haven't answered my question," he reminded her. "May I?"

"Yes… yes you may…" she replied. Heaven knew he'd touched all over her body so many times before… why stop him now…

She shuddered when the sponge first touched her, a luxury she hadn't felt in so long. He started at her neck, her shoulders... then dipped it below the water, the _impervius_ charm keeping the suds from washing off of it, and gently, tenderly, moved it along each of her breasts, her chest, her stomach… then dipped it between her legs and moved to her thighs, her calves, her feet… Hermione watched the water get dirtier and dirtier as all the grime was scrubbed off her body. Six weeks of filth was floating in the tub, no longer on her body. She already felt worlds better than she had a mere half an hour ago, still stuck in the dank darkness of her cell. As if reading her thoughts, he spoke.

"Feel better?" he asked.

"Loads," she replied.

"Good. Can I help you out?" He held out his hand. She took it, and he slowly pulled her up to a standing position and helped her step out of the basin. Before she could even take a step, he'd begun drying her off with a soft cotton towel. She enjoyed the sensation and felt herself being warmed by the towel as the liquid was taken from the surface of her body.

"Malfoy…"

"Please, Hermione. I am your master no more. Call me Draco."

She swallowed. Cleared her throat.

"Draco…" she tried. It felt odd calling him that. "Why are you doing this?"

"I told you. No one deserves to die that way."

"But why only me? Why me?"

He ignored this question and instead scooped her up in his arms again. She gasped as he carried her back out to the bedroom and laid her on the bed. It was so soft… the comforter was a down comforter, covered by silk… so fluffy, so warm, so comfortable… it was unlike anything she had ever felt. She closed her eyes and squirmed and snuggled into it, enjoying the feeling… until she heard a thud and clank as his pants and belt buckle hit the floor. Her vision snapped over to him, for the first time seeing him totally naked… and rock hard.

She gulped.

"Are you scared?" he asked. It was not a question of malice, as it had always been before. He was concerned, genuinely concerned…

"Only a little," she admitted. He smiled a small smile, then joined her on the bed. He knelt overtop of her and – she couldn't help it – her breath quickened.

"Don't be scared, Hermione. You don't have to be scared anymore…" with every word he leaned down closer to her, quickly closing the space between them.

"Let me show you life, Hermione," he whispered against her lips. She let out the breath she didn't even know she'd been holding… and then his lips touched hers.

He'd never kissed her before, never. Kissing meant attachment, and attachment lead to love. He'd done everything else imaginable to her body, but never kissed her… it was this first kiss alone that made her mind go wild, her body explode with desire. His lips gently massaged hers before coaxing them to part and his tongue greeting hers. She kissed back fervently, passionately, loving this feeling that for ages she had missed.

He supported himself with one hand while the other traced her collarbones, then snuck down to her breasts. He fondled one, then the other, getting approving moans from her. Still kissing her, he lightly trailed his fingers down her chest, her stomach, her abs, until they were lightly resting on her center, kept hairless by a charm she had put on herself years ago. She whimpered into the kiss and he couldn't tell if it was fear or passion. He broke the kiss and looked at her.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Draco… oh Draco… please…" she pleaded. He hesitated.

"Please Draco… touch me…" she begged. He let out a slight sigh of relief, kissed her again, and let his fingers gently wander through her crevice, playing with her clit, teasing at her entrance. She squirmed with pleasure beneath him and he was pleasantly surprised when he felt her petite, lithe hands on his cock, slowly stroking. He moaned into her mouth at this and let one finger slide into her… her moan joined his. As her hand strokes got faster, so did his fingers, and soon he had two fingers inside of her, thrusting into her methodically and quickly. He already knew exactly how to make her come from weeks of (unwilling for her) practice and so implemented this strategy, keeping two fingers thrusting inside of her while his thumb rubbed her clit. She pulled away from the kiss and moaned loudly, and he silently thanked himself that he'd remembered to put a silencing charm on the door.

Except this time, he heard words he'd never heard her say before…

"Faster… ohhh, faster, harder, please…" she begged. "Make me come, Draco, I want to come…"

"With pleasure…" he replied softly, and did as she asked. He felt her get tighter with each passing second, heard her moans get louder, and knew she was right on the brink.

"Ohhh, Draco!" she yelled. She felt it coming, felt her body tensing in preparation, she wanted it so badly, more than she ever had before…

"Oh, oh, OH, YES!" she cried, and then it came, wracking her body with the sensations of pleasure, and she screamed louder than she ever had in the dungeon.

He kept going, letting her ride it out as long as he could, and then slowly brought his hand to a stop.

"Oh… my God…" she stuttered, staring up at him with her chocolate brown eyes.

She couldn't see it, of course, but he could sense that there was life in those eyes again.

"Good?" he asked, a question he clearly didn't need answered.

"Oh yes… so good…" she replied breathlessly.

"Good," he said, and before she could even catch her breath, his mouth was between her legs. His tongue flicked at her, teasing her, and she gasped each time. Now that she was clean she tasted so good, so pure… he couldn't help himself and delved his tongue into her crevice, lapping at her juices which were the product of the orgasm she'd just had… he felt her bucking her hips into him, silently begging for more as he slipped his tongue inside her, tongue-fucking her…

Soon his tongue came to rest on her clit, flicking it, licking it, sucking it… while he slyly slid a finger inside of her.

Her reaction was immediate. The sensations that brought to her were almost unthinkable. He was hitting both pleasure centers at the same time, in rhythm, and she was sure she would come again. His mouth was hot and wet and felt amazing in combination with his talented fingers… She felt it building again, begged him not to stop, cried out his name over and over, until again, within a few minutes, she felt her center explode with pleasure, sending spasms all throughout her body as she bucked her hips into his mouth, begging for more, begging for it to continue… he managed to make it last for a full two minutes before she finally came down from the high, dizzy, her vision cloudy from the experience. She almost couldn't make coherent words.

"Dr… Draco… you… you're just… you're… _amazing_…" she cried, still shaking from the aftershocks. He just smiled.

"Are you ready?" he asked quietly. She paused.

"Ready for what?"

In answer, he gently touched his cock to her entrance. She sighed happily.

"Yes…" she whispered. She wanted it. Wanted him. Badly.

"As you wish, m'lady…" he replied, and he slowly slid himself into her.

It was unlike anything Hermione had ever experienced, especially with him. For the first time, he was soft, slow, tender… she enjoyed every thrust, every sensation, every feeling that he gave her. She knew the feeling was mutual, that they were both enjoying this sin of the flesh more than should even be humanly allowed. They moaned together, sighed together, kissed together… gradually he got faster and she matched him, bucking her hips in rhythm with him. She began yelping with pleasure eventually and soon had no more strength to keep up… she simply laid back and let him take her into the throes of ecstasy again and again… it seemed to last forever. She had climax after climax, and still he thrusted, until it seemed he could take it no longer and sped up even more. Just as he brought her to her final climax, he came to his own, and he shouted her name as he came, spilling inside of her with each throbbing vibration of his cock. He kissed her in those final moments, kissed her long and hard, delving his tongue deep into her mouth with her happily doing the same, clutching at his back, his hair, anything, as she experienced her final orgasm along with his. Finally, when they were both finished, he pulled out of her and collapsed next to her.

Hermione felt herself rapidly getting tired, and wondered if he'd put some unspoken spell upon her. She decided that it didn't really matter… that sleep was more important, and she'd ask him her questions in the morning… her breaths became deep and even, and just before she slipped into unconsciousness she could have sworn she heard his voice…

"_I love you, my dear Hermione Granger, and I'm sorry…"_

She never awoke.

-Fin-


End file.
